


Ursa Minor

by osterac1999



Series: Constellations [7]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Waterlogged Headphones, jenna's mentioned too but that isn't until the end sadly, let people cuddle platonically you Fools, like can y'all just let the boys and girls be friends because.........it's so good, my favorite qpp, vv minor angst it's just chillin there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 04:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12623308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osterac1999/pseuds/osterac1999
Summary: Brooke stood outside the door to Michael’s room, foot tapping incessantly on the concrete. Her arms were folded in front of her chest and she glared at the door. Soft music was drifting out from under the door, and it was pretty calming. And she would’ve been calm, too, if Michael wasn’t worrying herthis much.





	Ursa Minor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikey_melon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikey_melon/gifts).



> Tbh this was gonna happen one way or another and I'm glad it's happening now. I'm getting slightly back into the angst train, but fluff has stolen my heart completely. Damn you fluff. 
> 
> A birthday fic for my friend moogs!!!!!! I want her to have the best birthday because she DESERVES IT!!!! I love you!!!!!! <3 <3

Brooke stood outside the door to Michael’s room, foot tapping incessantly on the concrete. Her arms were folded in front of her chest and she glared at the door. Soft music was drifting out from under the door, and it was pretty calming. And she would’ve been calm, too, if Michael wasn’t worrying her _this much_.

 

Eventually, she gave up on the idea that he was going to open the door. She reached for the knob and pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. It swung open rather ominously, and Brooke entered Michael’s room.

 

Honestly, she didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Maybe Michael sleeping, music softly making up the background noise of his dreams. Maybe him jamming softly to the music, ready to greet her with a smile. Maybe she had hallucinated the music and he wasn’t here at all. Well- okay. That last idea was a bit farfetched. Either way, all of them had brighter prospects than what she actually walked in on.

 

She froze in the doorway and stared at Michael, surprised to see him _awake_ , but not moving. He stared blankly at the wall, as if trying to burn a hole there, or discover every last unknown secret of the universe. She tentatively made her way to his side and stood there for a moment, waiting to see if he’d notice. 

 

He didn’t.

 

She let out a quiet breath and gently took his hand, almost instinctively letting go when he flinched. She held his hand loosely in hers, hoping he wouldn’t pull away but fine altogether if it came to that. The tiniest amount of satisfaction bloomed in her heart when he gripped it tighter.

 

“Hey, Micah.” Brooke whispered softly, running her other hand through his hair.

 

“Hey, River.” He whispered back. His voice was hoarse from what she assumed was disuse. Or possibly crying? She really hoped he hadn’t been crying.

 

She paused, wondering where she could possibly go from here. She shook all of her current thoughts out of her head and sat on the bed. He looked up at her curiously, and her heart almost couldn’t take the tears shining in his eyes.

 

“Where’ve you been all week?” She asked instead of immediately launching into a worried rant. Sure, it was only Wednesday, but he hadn’t been at school all week and refused to answer her (or anyone else’s, for that matter) texts. 

 

“Uh.” He glanced between her and the ceiling, searching for what he might’ve thought was an appropriate answer. “Chillin’?”

 

She hummed and brought their joined hands into her lap, and began rubbing small circles into his knuckle. “You and I both know that won’t work.”

 

A humorless laugh escaped him. “Yeah, I know. I just…” He trailed off.

 

“I get it. You don’t have to talk about, but if you do- I’ll be here.” She gave him the biggest smile she could muster, hoping it looked genuine.

 

“Thanks, River.” He began sinking back into his bed, but she tugged on his hand, stopping him.

 

“Have you eaten today?” _All week_ is what she _wanted_ to say. Michael casted his eyes downward and she groaned. “Babe, you need to eat. Food’s important.”

 

“I know, I know! I just don’t have the motivation.” He explained. Brooke gave him an appraising look and determined that, yes, he seemed to be lacking quite a bit of motivation. There were deep bags under his eyes, which themselves were red. His hair was mussed, which completely contradicted how it normally looked- styled and pristine. She could also tell he hadn’t changed out of his t-shirt in days.

 

Mouth set in a determined line, she got up and tugged him up with her. “You’re taking a shower while I make some food. _Then_ we’re switching out your sheets and watching a movie.” She decided.

 

“Y-You _really_ don’t have to do that.” He tried to sit back down, but she wasn’t having it.

 

“I _don’t_ have to, but I _want_ to. You deserve to be cared about.” She said softly. He stared at her and she took advantage of his current state, dragging him upstairs. She caught a glimpse of her own addition to the ceiling as she turned around, and smiled softly. One good thing to remember so far.

 

Once upstairs, Brooke _shoved_ Michael into the bathroom with a towel. She told him not to come out for _at least_ half an hour, and closed the door, shutting away his shocked gaze. She didn’t know why he was so shocked, but she was determined to erase whatever was causing that feeling. 

 

She only left the door when she heard the shower running and made her way into the kitchen. It felt… dead in there. Like no one had bothered to come and do anything for a while. Well, that was about to change- courtesy of Brooke Lohst. She typed in ‘lasagna recipe’ into Google and found an apparently good one. She read over the recipe a few times, tapping her nails on the counter. Did she-

 

Brooke looked between the cabinet and her phone a few times. A quick glance at the time revealed that, no, she didn't have an hour before Michael re-rejoined the world of the living. So. Pizza it was.

 

She pushed the door closed, hitting a tad too hard. She winced as it slammed shut. Whoops. She rushed over to the freezer and opened it, relieved to find a frozen pizza. After she brought it out and set it on the counter, she preheated the oven and cut it out of its packing. She had to dig around another set of cabinets for a bit, but eventually she triumphantly pulled out a pizza pan. Once everything was ready to be put in, she hoisted herself onto the counter and scrolled through Pinterest, occasionally ooh-ing at a particularly cute dress she found. Hm. She needed to wear dresses more often.

 

After fifteen minutes, the oven beeped loudly and she jumped, nearly throwing her phone onto the floor. She took a few seconds to collect herself, then shut the timer off. Her feet hit the ground lightly and she opened the oven door, revelling in the heat of it for a moment. Before she got too distracted, she shoved the pan in and tapped on it until it was in the center. Satisfied with how well she _didn’t_ burn herself, she returned to her place on the counter, waiting for Michael.

 

Humming a song she couldn’t remember the name or full lyrics of, she set her phone down and leaned her head back. She tried to push away any worry for Michael, but the longer he took in the shower-

 

_It hasn’t even been half an hour yet._

 

_And? Does that stop me from worrying?_

 

_No, but maybe trust him?_

 

She knew the argument with herself was going nowhere, no matter how solid the argument from her logical side was. She was concerned and, frankly, the longer he took, the more her concern grew- until she was practically vibrating on top of the counter. She found herself glancing between her lap and the entryway of the kitchen. Where wa-

 

_BEEPBEEPBEEP_

 

She jolted, slipping off the counter. She picked herself off of the floor and rubbed at her knee, which she could see was already getting red. Well, at least she’d know where that bruise came from instead of them appearing from the ether. Despite her knee throbbing and capturing most of her attention, she managed to hear the quiet padding of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

 

“Uh, Brookie? You okay?” Michael croaked from the doorway, on the precipice of reluctantly joining her and bolting.

 

“Oh! Micah! Yeah, I’m fine. I just feel off the-” She was cut off by another harsh set of beeps and winced. “I keep forgetting about that.” She gave a nervous laugh and moved to turn it off. Once that was settled, she turned back to him. “Ready for some food?”

 

He stared blankly at the oven for a moment and she was worried he was lost in his head again. Her (current) worries were alleviated when he met her eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds before he turned back away and shrugged.

 

“I guess. I haven’t really felt hungry lately, so, if I don’t eat a lot you’ll know why.” He finished his answer with a weak set of finger guns. She frowned and pulled on a set of oven mitts. If he didn’t want to share right now, she wouldn’t make him.

 

After setting out the pizza for them (Brooke almost dropping the entire thing when she noticed something crawling on her arm, which turned out to be a piece of lint), they sat around the table in an amicable albeit a bit tense silence. She was sure Michael could tell she wanted to talk. She felt bad that she was going back on what she said earlier. She _wanted_ him to talk so she understood- was that so bad? 

 

“So, Micah-” She started.

 

“Brooke.” He interrupted, setting his half-eaten slice back onto the plate. “I really appreciate this, but there’s no way I’m talking.”

 

Her stomach dropped. Was there a reason he wouldn’t tell her? “Oh-okay. I just thought…” She trailed off, biting her lip. She glanced up and caught his tired gaze.

 

He carded a hand through his hair. “It-it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just… can’t. Talk about it, I mean. It’s dumb.” He let out a laugh that fell flat. “I’m fi-”

 

Brooke abruptly stood and planted her hands solidly on the table. “Don’t say you’re fine.” She noticed his wince and she shrunk down. “Sorry.” She couldn’t stand how useless she felt. If she couldn’t be there for him, then what-

 

Michael placed a hand on top of hers. He had walked around the table and was now stood at her side. “River, it’s okay. Sometimes you can’t… I just…” He groaned. “I can’t even begin to describe what’s fucking wrong with me this time.”

 

_This time?_ “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He looked like he was going to interrupt, so she sent him the tiniest, most non-threatening glare she could muster. “You’re having a terrible week. That isn’t your fault.” She stood up straight and grabbed his hand fully in hers. “Now, we’re gonna go downstairs, listen to whatever music you feel like playing, and cuddle.” Not too shabby a plan, if she was being honest.

 

He shot her a small smile and she shot him a big grin in return. She knew there would be bad days in the future and she knew he wouldn’t always be able to talk, so she’d just be there. Be there to offer big hugs and little kisses. Be there to offer silent support or a quiet running commentary on anything. 

 

As they settled in, curling under a pile of blankets and looking at a precariously placed laptop, Brooke couldn’t help but feel satisfied with this. She shot an update text to Jenna, inviting her over later when she was sure Michael would feel better. Interacting with two people who he knew cared about him was sure to help. And, well, if it didn’t they’d still be there.

 

Not everything was solved yet. There was still Jeremy and his SQUIP. Chloe and her apparent guilt over what happened on Halloween. Rich was still in the hospital, too, and he probably wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon. Not to mention what could happen if anything else escalated.

 

It would be alright in the end, though, right? Everything _had_ to work itself out. They all deserved at least that. Heck, they deserved a whole lot more than things going back to-

 

Well, not normal. If things were “normal” she wouldn’t be friends- _real friends_ \- with Michael or Jenna. 

 

So maybe something resembling normalcy, but better. That’s what they deserved, and a whole lot more.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed!!! I hope you liked this too moogs!!!!! <3 <3
> 
> If y'all wanna Scream at me my tumblr is @cuddlehoe


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